


Sweet Bitterness

by CinMan



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Punisher (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Christmas fluff I guess, M/M, Sex scene so read with caution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-08-03 23:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16335005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinMan/pseuds/CinMan
Summary: This fic got deleted. And I'm sorry to the 300+ people who read it when I posted it all jumbled up accidentally. I hope y'all give it another go.SummaryFrank and Matt accidentally bump into each other on Christmas Eve and one thing leads to another.





	1. Silent Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with a Frank who is as kind to Matt as he is to Karen. That's my kink. You'll see that this is not Season 3 compliant but season 2, Defender's and Punisher complaint.

There’s not much to go by but the shape of the lenses, the smell of the silver coated steel and the ever so slightly increasing heartbeat of the girl behind the counter. Matt stood inside the warm Delhi Spice food shop and spun the rack of Chinese imported sunglasses near the bathroom supply section of the store. He made sure the thugs who broke his classes got the devil treatment by night. He’d sure invest in a pair slightly more expensive but it was Christmas eve in Hells Kitchen and the only store he could find open was Mr Singh's little shop. Miss Singh didn’t seem to mind Matts presence as she took full advantage of his blindness and stared nonchalantly at him. Little did she know that he could feel her glare and almost taste chewing gum mint on her breath.

The door bell rung and a gust of cold winters air entered the room. Now Matt was so preoccupied with a Garamond shaped spectacle and a retro square, that he hadn’t noticed that the new sound of feet were familiar to him.

Frank went to the frozen meat section almost idly and grabbed a frozen chicken from the freezer. As he made his way to the cashier, he felt himself look in the direction of her attention. Mathew Murdock stood with two sunglasses in his hands. A face bare for the world to see and a cute little frown plastered on his brows. He wore a knee length black coat and a grey suit with a red tie.  
The girls attention whipped back to Frank and Frank felt some satisfaction in her embarrassment. He payed for his chicken and handed another twenty, when the girl looked confused he pointed his chin at Matt. She took the money unbothered, his thoughts drifted back to that stupid lawyer who he’d basically thrown under the bus. The kid was sure to get bad publicity over Frank’s outburst in court over an year ago. Frank fell grim. Wishing that bit of guilt had perished along with the rest of his humanity. A shorter lady behind him rushed past him. Loading a bag of potatoes and rice on the counter. Frank made his way to the lawyer.

“Try the one in your left hand" Frank said without a beat and Matt almost shivered. Frank was there to give his apologies and leave, that's all it was, and he was not in the mood to make it anything less or more.  
Matt was shocked to say the least. He felt like the ground beneath him was spinning and all he could do was stand there frozen.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you" Matt listened to Frank’s rough but clear voice vibrating around him. He sensed Frank’s calloused hand when it moved nonchalantly to brush against the fine hairs on his head, then it brushed over the skin on his neck before landing back where they were at his side. Matt swallowed. He put the pair on before Frank had the chance to see his eyes. It was the slightly small retro square.

“Thank you” Matt said. Trying to figure out his next move. Last time he had thought about Frank Castle was when the man was discovered alive on the news. Matt could sense Frank had a bag of chicken in his left hand, dog fur on his jacket and a gun tucked on the back of his trousers. Matt wondered whether it would be safer to let frank know he knew who he was or ask him who he was, when Frank introduced himself.

“It’s Frank by the way. Uh Frank Castle" Matt shifted uncomfortably, a little perplexed by the man beside him while Frank skin began to crawl at the silence he met.

“Yes. Of course. I thought I remembered that voice.” And if Matt wasn’t careful, he would have missed the change in heartbeat inside Franks heavy chest. Frank grunted or affirmed, Matt wasn’t sure.

“You’re certain this pair isn’t pink or something?” Matt smiled politely, trying to ease the situation. His head ducked out of the poor lighting.

“So you know colors?" Frank sounded amazed. Matt shrugged.

“Wasn’t always blind” Matt replied.

“Black frames. Red lenses. Suits your tie. Important night?” Frank wanted to shoot himself for his own attempt at small talk. Matt was feeling intoxicated, or high on adrenaline. He had never imagined Franks heart to flutter that way. It certainly never did around Daredevil. Though Matt had no clue about what Frank's perception of him was, but he could guess that Frank was no fan of Darrdevil. Matt was wrong there, Frank has a lot of admiration and respect for the vigilante in red, he just didn't like how he had a tendency to butt into Frank's business.

“I suppose. I’ll be going to Midnight Mass. Actually I think I’m getting late. I should pay for these" Matt wished his attempt at fleeing was a little less obvious, but the words were out. Matt could almost hear Frank grimace.  
“No need I got it covered. C’mon I’ll walk you to Saint Church" Frank offered and Matt didn’t bother lie that he was going with a friend. Matt was interested. He wanted to understand what Frank was like when he wasn’t charged for homicide or attempting homicide.

“Ah thank you but you didn't hav-”

“Just accept it as a Christmas present” Frank joked lightly. Matt smiled and Frank took the other pair of glasses out of his hand and placed it back on the rack swiftly. Matt pulled his cane out and followed Frank out. Remembering to use his cane on the path. The wind outside was cool and carried a number of Christmas smells and noises with it’s course. Matt didn’t feel Frank shudder. He walked like a soldier. Calm and carefully.  
“Matt-”  
“Are you-" They both say at the same time. Matt wanted to kick himself. How had he missed the hike in Frank's heartbeat before speaking? Frank was starring at him like he had just grown a second head. The man was obviously as nervous as Matt, well as nervous as a grim, brooding and emotionally ambiguous man like Frank can become.

“You go on" Matt says.

“Why are you limping?” Frank notices a little late and changes the subject.

“Just a small mugging incident few streets away. Don't look at me like that, I'm fine, but they broke my favorite glasses” Some thugs, had in fact crushed Matt’s glasses on the way, but Matt doesn’t mention he was the one to approach them as they mugged a ritzy lady. 

“Want me to rough them up?” Frank asks. 

“No I think the police has that covered" Frank chuckles at Matt’s very Daredevil response. 

Matt didn’t mind Frank. In fact as time went by he didn’t even mind the Punisher. Matt had stopped being Daredevil before certain forces of the universe brought him back on that path. Watching Electra die again was it for him. Maybe that was Gods punishment for him, for wearing the face of sin. Electra didn’t deserve to be punished, she was on a path of salvation, he could have protected her. Matt wanted to die with her, it would have only been fair but God saved him. God hadn't saved Mathew Murdock but Daredevil and Matt was still figuring out what that meant with time like the way his wounds healed. Not being able to protect his city was hard but Matt knew Jessica didn’t come close to protecting Hells Kitchen like the Punisher did. They all feared him.

Matt had seen him in action. There was something too primal about him for the City. For a human being. Frank walked without his shoulders tensed and squared, without blood dripping from his hands and his heart beat a little more stable. His scent a little more inviting and his heat a little more welcoming in the Christmas winter.

It was just a harmless walk until Matt finds himself sitting next to Frank in the Church. Frank, whom Matt had known to be a nonbeliever is generously patient with the sermon. While Frank seems to zone out, Matt’s attention can’t help but drift towards the soldier next to him. He remembers Sister Catherine’s words 'the devil will try to distract you from your path as an attempt to misguide you and deprive you from your good deeds'. Matt swallows, alarmed by his toxic thinking. Frank’s eyes dart towards him. Something Matt doesn’t catch on too.

The Priest beckons the communion and the silence erupts with light whispers. A couple of people shove past them to join the line at the center. Matt chuckles a little nervously and looks to Frank off centre. Frank grunts at the hopeful look on Matt’s face, like a piece of bread and some grape juice can save him from damnation. Matt sighs and gets up and easily gets in the line because of the blind card. Franks eyes aren’t on him as he makes small talk with some people, Frank’s head is always lowered, maybe he’s hiding his face. Matt doesn’t know like Matt doesn’t know why he’s even here.

Communion was over and the priest was saying the Collect when they decide to leave. Matt wants to ask. He really can’t seem to form words today. When they’re still standing outside of the doors of the Church in the freezing cold, Frank speaks.

“It's been a long time since I’ve done that.” Franks words are like gravel on tires. Matt hums. His nose is a bright red in the street lights, he seems thinner and different in the melancholy aura of the Church behind them.

“Yeah? How long?” Matts voice comes out careful but soft. He reaches for his cane and Frank extends his arm which Matt pretends not to notice.

“You don’t have to use that thing" Matt’s eyebrows shoot up. He puts the cane back in his jacket and reaches for him. His arm remains muscular even over the 3 layers of clothing. Matt wraps his right hand above Franks elbow.

“I was a kid last time, God that was more than 20 years ago. My.. my ex wife wasn’t very religious. Where’s your place?” Frank murmurs all but the last. Matt tells him the address and Frank turns left.

“Do you think you can find faith again?” Matt asks. Frank laughs, the sound seems foreign but it stops as soon as it starts.

“Not interested.” He says. Matt hums.

“Why did you come in today?” Frank is studying him now and Matt is Aware of it

“Just wanted to try something new I guess” Frank admits and Matt can’t sense if he’s lying or not.

It is a 20 minute walk and they talk about aimless things. They talk a lot about Frank on the News but nothing about the terrorist attacks. They talk about Karen but not how Karen had told Frank that Matt had died and they’d gotten drunk together, mourned together. They talk about Matt’s job but not his other job that Matt hadn’t had the faintest clue that Frank knew about. Many things were left unsaid, but now Frank knew Matt was alive. When no else did. 

It was mundane and something special to make Matt smile that night. When they reached the building. Matt didn’t ask how Frank knew where to stop without being reminded. Matt untangled his hand from Franks warmth and said his goodbye.

"Thank you for walking me home" Matt yells after Frank as he's walking away.

"See ya Red" Frank whispers under his breath but loud enough for Matt's sensitive ears. The air gets kocked out of Matt's lungs as soon as he hears that name. His skin became greyed, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were as wide as they could stretch. It did occur to him that Frank would know, but even expected things had the ability to scare men. Matt stayed where he was, and listened to the retreating footsteps of Frank as he made his way home. So Frank Castle knew him, Electra, Karen, Foggy, his three Defender friends, and now Frank Castle. Somehow Matt didn't mind at all. 


	2. Christmas Curse

It’s Christmas day, the streets are joyful and merry. Crime is quiet like an abandoned cottage with the ghosts of vigilantes roaming the halls. His new place reeks of loneliness. He despises it. The roughness of his bed, the loud thumping of music every night, and the unfamiliar walls of the apartment feel like a curse. He listens to Foggy's heartbeat, and Karen’s, searches for Electra's but finds nothing. 

Then, quite shockingly, Matt finds himself listening to the mystery that is Frank Castle. His heart beat is steady, 2 blocks away, Frank sleeps peacefully. That calms Matt. It feels like a symphony amidst the chaos in mind. He feels grounded by Frank’s pulse, his beat and his heavy breaths, before snapping out of that fantasy frantically. 

A few days ago, Matt heard a couple fighting on the bottom floor. Screams calmed into hushed voices. Mrs Ali was furious, her daughter gone missing. Mr Ali says 'the police is doing their job’ and assures his wife. Matt had just moved into the apartment the day before, he is familiar with neither of them but that doesn’t stop him from memorizing their daughters smell, its a warm, exotic fragrance that Matt chases after despite his limp. 

Matt’s senses were still recovering but he recognizes her scent on a denim jacket when she runs past him the next day. Teenager’s in the city rarely leave home without some choice. Matt suspected this was another case of teenage rebellion. He followed her swiftly through the Monday crowd until he reached an abandoned furniture warehouse. The scent of rotting wood too strong for Matt. He could hear her handing money to some guy named Russell. The place was thick with the smell of tobacco and narcotics. Russell had handed Jameela a packet of cigarettes. She had then stepped out on the east side of the building. She’s was crying when Matt built some courage to speak to her. 

“Hello" he started

“Uh are you lost?” She shuffled off the bench.

“Your parents are worried" Matt jumped the gun.

“That’s funny because they’re the ones who kicked  
me out"

“And why would they do that” Matt made a thoughtful sound and sat on the bench. Jameela stood, hostile. 

“Because I like girls... they told me not to show my face to them ever again” She looked away, ashamed.

“Hmm. They’re still looking for you.” Matt insisted with no more fight. Not having the energy to defend her parents.

“I’m not going back, it’s scary out here but I can’t fucking go back" She folded her arms and sat beside Matt. Matthew Murdock isn’t the type of man to turn a blind eye on homeless teens in his city. He had dug into his pockets and found two notes and handed it to Jameela beside him. Matt didn’t need his vision to read the caution and shock on the girl’s face. 

“Don’t worry I’ll keep an eye on you" Matt got up and went to grab his cane 

“Huh, but you’re blind!” She had chuckled.

Matt smiled.

“Oh and get a job" Then he left.

Jameela dies on Christmas night. With her hands tied in ropes. The cross of Christ carved onto her skin and Daredevil sees nothing but red rage. Russell staggers back when the Devil’s silhouette slips past the entrance of the warehouse. Daredevil can sense his zipper is open and hands bathed in blood. The blood stink in the cold winter air. Daredevil moves quickly. Russell points a dagger towards him. The devil dodges it swiftly. 

There are more in the Warehouse. Daredevil doesn’t care what or who they are. Maybe a cult or maybe sadistic teenagers, all he cares for is the dead fifteen year old in the room with them. He breaks Russell’s legs and reminds himself to come back for him later. His knuckles take out more men, some too old to be chasing after teenage girls. He gets hit by a bat, he staggers backwards. Tears stinging in his eyes. 

He takes his first punch in the gut. His hands are fast to lock onto the person’s hands and flip him on the ground. His bandages are tight enough to keep but his leg slows him down, aching to the core. Another punch to his jaw that makes his head pound. Daredevil has hated himself before but he loathes himself for not being able to take these ordinary men. His anger clouds his movements, then he hears gunshots. He can smell it is Frank. Daredevil screams. Frank looks at him and drops his gun. Three men charge for Frank he dislodges their weapons and aims for their jaws. In less than a minute, the three men are unconscious on the floor with serious signs of concussions. 

When Frank stops. Daredevil has covered Jameela's body with a blanket. Frank calls out for him but they fall on unstable ears. Frank reaches for him but Daredevil pushes him off. Daredevil is angry and he wants to fight instead he walks out. Reaching out with his hands to avoid hitting any obstacles, his head spinning, not caring what he looks like. 

His hearing comes to him and he climbs the roof trying to outrun the heavy footsteps that follow him. His limp makes him frustrated, he fumes. Frank worries and follows until Daredevil is too tired to walk anymore, his head hurts. He can still smell the scent of Jameela's blood and her perfume.

Frank watches him and stops a few feet behind of Daredevil. His back heaves. Frank reaches for Daredevil's shoulder. He is skeptical and unsure of how to proceed. He thinks about his own few share of panic attacks that his wife had calmed him through. Now he feels obligated to stay. He knows human contact and a little touch can calm Matt. His arm slides from onto Matt’s waist, now leaner from injuries. Frank steps closer and holds firmly. He knows Matt doesn’t want to face him. Maybe there is a fragment of Frank that wants to walk away from Matt's internal battle but simultaneously there is a larger part of him wanting to protect. 

“Shhhh. I got you" Daredevil furrows his eyebrows with confusion. He feels too vulnerable after Frank’s reassuring words. It breaks him. He cries in wuite and muffled sobs. He feels the guilt of Jameela's death seize him, suffocating him like a strong hand around his neck. He is hurt, by Electra, and by his own naive weakness of feeling too much when Frank whispers again.

“That wasn’t on you. Shhh. You’re alright.” Its firmer this time, almost believable to him. Daredevil does register the close proximity of their bodies. Frank is all cold and hard against his back, but his breath is warm like the sun in summer. Frank reaches for his mask and yanks it off. Matt should stop him. He knows that but he feels like he’s wronged too many of his people with this lie, he knows that Frank knows and he doesn’t have any fight left in him. Matt lets out a sob, his hands instantly move to cover his eyes to find the cold wetness there.

Frank spins him around and hugs him in hopes of giving Matt momentary salvation. His hand The mask on the rooftop now. Matt shoves his ruined face into the crook of Frank’s neck. Frank closes his eyes and tries to control his breathing. He knows he need a stable heartbeat if he intends to calm Matt. He holds His arms tight around Matts shoulders and waist, squeezing firmly as Matt muscles begin to release tension. Melting into layers of clothes and Franks warm neck and his scent. Frank never stops whispering in his ear. 

“Shhh, shhh, shh, you’re okay. I’ve got you Red” Matt’s too warm inside, too cold outside. He’s trembling, Frank thinks he’s whimpering like a sad puppy. Frank’s hand brushes through his hair. Matt feels safe. He’s in excruciating pain but he’s been starved of is the sort of intimacy for too long now. The warmth, the kindness and the words take him by surprise. He’s too ruined to even whisper a thank you. He sobs, cries, hurts until can no more.

Frank doesn’t count how long it takes for Matt to feel better, Frank watches the city, lit bright on Christmas. Matt’s been alone for so fucking long. It doesn’t feel any different to him to be alone again this year but Frank still hasn’t gotten the hang of it. Maybe, he thinks, he needed this too.

“I told her I... would look after her" Matt hadn’t wrapped his arms around Frank. His hands still held onto the edges of Frank's jacket tightly. Frank untangles his arms from Matt’s shoulder, Matt still hangs on. The lights glisten on Matt’s teary face, Frank’s never been so close to the guy before. He’s beautiful, Frank thinks.  
Matt shuffles back but his body doesn't seem to want distance. He stands awkwardly.

“You can’t save them all" now that comes from a deeper place then Frank could even conjure. Matt nods. 

“Yeah" he whispers, but he doesn’t stop to feel any less responsible though.

“C’mon” Frank grabs Matt’s left arm off him. 

“I’ll fix you up" Matt let’s Frank lead him. 

“I'm not injured" Matt argues. 

“Yeah you look just fine” Frank blurts out sarcastically. Matt yanks his hand away. 

“Well I don’t need babying" Matt whispers as he grabs his mask off the ground. Its wet and gross but Matt puts it on anyway. 

“Where're we going anyway?" Matt asks. 


	3. Inconclusive Hints

Mathew Murdock finds himself inside Frank Castle's home. It isn’t one of Frank’s shabby safe houses or some poor example of what people deem as a home. It is a genuine home that smells of food, has a dog and radiates warmth like a house should. Had Matt not traced Frank this exact morning, Matt might have been actually shocked by the normality of it all.

The apartment is three stories high, so they take the stairs in the back alley, then they climb through the window like thieves. The living room is inviting to Matt’s senses in an indescribable way, Frank’s dog’s paws hit the ground instantly and she comes to greet her owner.

Matt smells the place. Frank had been cooking so scent of roasted chicken and herbs permeates inside the apartment. As hungry as he is, he can not help but feel like an intruder. Like Frank has given him something that he can never take back by allowing him there. 

Frank starts heading towards the door where the light switch is.

“Turning the light on, not that it probably matters to you, right?” Frank sounds unsure. The light switch clicks. 

Matt pulls his mask off, somehow his face is clean of any dirt or bruise. Frank studies him, particularly Matt's unseeing eyes.

“No but I don’t expect you to sit in the dark" he says, still standing by the cold shut window. Unable to shake away his anxiety. 

Frank isn’t sure about a lot of things, but he’s sure about Matt. He senses that he can trust the blind superhero.

So, Frank pushes Matt inside his room and orders him to change into 'normal' clothes. The events before were clearly not enough to change Frank’s perspective on Matt’s heroism and ironic identity. 

Matt hears the door shut behind him. He stands there still dazed by everything. This is where Frank was sleeping this morning he thinks as he lets his echolocation take in the room. The smell of Frank in there is almost intoxicating, Matt adjusts his collar suddenly feeling hot. He felt like he never left the embrace of Frank’s arms.

Frank Castle is well off to afford this place. The place has to be expensive, with new furniture, space, and a quiet and good neighbourhood. Matt peels his suit off, folding it, and putting it on top of the dresser. He stands there in his underwear, listening to Frank take food out of the oven. Matt feels uncomfortable. He sits on the bed, trying to calm his thoughts, squeezing his palm. He then rests his heavy head in his hands. Then, the pain of the previous events takes him like a plague.

After he is dressed in Frank’s grey shirt and green sweatpants, he washes his face and wipes the wetness off with a towel near by. He knows he’s spent too long locked up in Frank’s room. Before he goes out, he traces the police officers at the crime scene. When the noise settles, and Russell is in the back of a police vehicle. Matt exhales and, suppresses all thoughts of going back out and killing the man.

Frank is crouched on the far end of the kitchen, plating Maxine, his dog, a generous amount of chicken. Matt leans against the kitchen entrance listening to Franks soft words directed at his dog. It’s his calm energy that reminds him of the way he had spoken to Matt a few minutes ago. Matt ducks his head, a few seconds shy of becoming red. 

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about calling the police on me again, Red” Frank scoffs as he gets up. The most mundane voice in such a strange situation. 

“Why would I? Since it didn’t work well the first time around" Matt responded from where he stood. It seems like Frank was heading towards the table so Matt followed. 

“Yeah well there’s no scenario where prison work’s well for anyone" Frank retorted. Matt hums in mere acknowledgement, not agreement. Frank has an aura around him that should make Matt uncomfortable, it’s guarded but familiar now. 

The night goes by and, Frank lets Matt stay for dinner. He doesn’t mention anything uncomfortable. Matt knows not to expect that from him. When Frank goes to put Maxine in the laundry room, Matt chugs his entire glass of rum. And then some more. He keeps going until he slowly loses that rational part of his conscience telling him to stop. He doesn’t seem to care anymore. 

Frank comes back. And clears the table. Cleaning around Matt who has his chin sitting on his arm on the table. Franks scoffs. Which might be easy for sober Matt to ignore but it’s simply insulting for tipsy Matt.

“What?” Matt asks pouring himself another glass. Frank is putting something in the fridge. 

“Can’t hold your alcohol huh?” Frank says. 

“What are you talking about? I’m not drunk" Matt says without any conviction.

“You will be after that glass" Frank shuts the fridge door.

“I’ll be fine" 

“Hmm" Frank swipes the almost empty bottle off the table and puts it on the counter. 

“Hey! I was drinking that" Matt whines. Head turning towards Frank who’s leaning against the kitchen counter, but his eyes are directed too low to meet Frank’s. 

“No. You’re drinking what’s in your glass. Don’t be such a damn lousy guest" Frank interjects.

“Why do you hate me?” Matt is looking right at him. Frank has to swallow at the sight at him. 

“If I did, you wouldn’t be here" Frank shoots back. Matt faces his opposite again and takes a sip of his drink. Senses Frank is not lying, although Matt isn’t very sure with Frank.

Matt says. “So you’re not going to call Karen or ask me where I was for the past 3 months?”

“Do you want that?” Frank takes a swig of the bottle from the counter.  
“...” Matt is ominously silent.

“I won’t call Karen because I don’t to be there when she realizes how much of an Asshole you are” Frank says, he feels like he’s entertaining a child, out of obligation. An act he is familiar with.

Matt groans in response and takes the rest of the alcohol. He sounds hysterical but Frank thinks maybe he has the right to. 

“Yeah, I'm an asshole." Matt slurs. Frank twitches. 

“Are you always this self deprecating or is it the alcohol talking?” Frank asks more hypothetically than anything. 

“Bit of both" Matt is smiling, but not in that pure way of his, but like something twisted inside him is trying to escape.

“I’m going to do it” Matt says and Frank can not understand what he’s trying to say anymore. Matt’s voice comes out slurred Frank figures he’s had enough of Matt’s shit and grabs him by the left arm. 

“Woah Woah! Be careful, Frank. You man handle me and you’ll be sorry tomorrow” Frank basically pushes Matt straight on the bed. 

“I don’t mind it rough” Matt smirks and he looks less like himself. Frank grunts, Matt’s being insufferable now. 

“Sleep" Frank orders. Matts stomach is visible beneath Frank's wrinkled shirt. Frank turns the light off. Matt remains sprawled on his bed. 

“I haven’t slept in four days! What makes you think I will now?” Matt says. Eyes wide open in the darkness of the secluded room. 

“Because I’M giving you an order.” Frank states. His hand resting on the doorknob handle like a question.

“Yes Sir!” Matt knows the discomfort Frank feels upon hearing that. Frank leaves. Shutting the door gently. Matt somehow falls a sleep after an hour of rerunning the events of the previous days with Frank and going as far back as the night with the Defenders. He sleeps better in the presence of Frank’s home than he has in his crummy apartment, alone. 

Frank is fine on the couch. He goes through his new Samsung smartphone that Micro had recently gifted him for Christmas. He mostly uses it to keep up with current events and some old acquaintances from the war. Recently though, Frank finds himself doing aimless things like quizzes that Micro sends him. He messages Karen a sweet little Merry Christmas. Then feels a heaviness for Matt.

Eventually Frank falls into a not very deep slumber on his cotton couch. He jolts awake hours later from the sound of a lamp crashing against the wall. Frank reaches beneath the couch to find his hidden handgun. He searches the room. When he deems the place to be clear, he follows the sound of shuffling coming from inside his own bedroom, where no light is shown in the crease of the closed door. He is in complete darkness except for the street light that illuminates his living room. He creeps to the room, feels panic that rises in his throat from the knowledge of Fisk's release, Matt could be in danger. He slowly pushes the room's door open and aims his hand at the light switch. In matter of milliseconds. The light is on and Frank has his gun pointed at Matt. Matt, whom gives no acknowledge to Frank and is in the middle ofof removing his shirt. 

“Matt?” Frank groans out, then lowers his gun, still hostile. The name tastes funny in his mouth.

“Uh, Frank.” Matt turns around like his focus has been broken. He has dark circles under his eyes and his skin looks pale. Matt pushes through his migraine and hangover. Frank is slightly irritated..

“Where’re my clothes?” Matt asks, spinning with his head tilted. Like he’s scanning the place. 

“In the wash.” Frank replies, his lip twitches when confusion passes Matt’s face, the frustration. 

“What! Frank! I need it. Now.” Matt sits down on the bed, shirtless. Frank hates the bright yellow tone of the light right now and the strangeness of Matt’s abrupt demands. 

“What the fuck is going on, Red?” Frank sounds bitter and does not care for it. 

“I’m wasting time. I have to go" Matt gets up again, not very gracefully. 

“Go where?” Frank hisses. 

“Two blocks away. I can smell it” Matt says like that answers his question. Frank’s beginning to think that Matt is still half asleep or maybe suffering from brain damage. Frank sighs very audibly. Matt stops moving, eyebrows furrowed like he’s clearly confused by Frank’s distressed sound. 

“Gas. A man turned the gas on. There’s children in the house. Two. And his wife. All asleep. He’s going to do something. Frank I need to get there. I'm sorry, I woke.. “ Matt rubs his head. 

“I’ll go" Frank says, feeling pity for Matt, he walks to Matt. The closeness somehow jolts Matt awake. He shuffles back. Frank smirks, a little amused. He leans down and grabs a bag from under the bed.

“What? Why?” Matt stands up, clueless. 

“Because you’re saving no ones ass when you can’t even walk straight. What floor and building?” Frank says.  
“Two buildings to the right when you walk out from the front. 6th floor, the apartment infront of the elevator” Frank is about to leave with the bag on his left shoulder. Matt reaches for his arm. It’s bare because Frank only wears a singlet to sleep. Warmth spreads where Matt touches him and Frank glares at Matt. Unable to do much else. 

“Don’t kill him” Frank is sure that he would feel no remorse when killing this man. He grunts, neither in agreement nor disagreement.

“Call me if something happens, there’s a button phone in the bedside table” He snatches his arm back and walk away after giving Matt his number. 

“I hate it when you tell me what to do Red" Frank says when he’s putting his boots on and shuts the door so loudly that Maxine wakes up. She jumps down from her couch and runs to sit infront of the door. When Matt crashes back on the bed, that she follows the sound. She likes guests, as rare as they are. The dog jumps onto the bed next to Matt and resumes her sleep. Matt pats her head warily. He listens to the dogs rapid heartbeat. It calms him. Then he follows Frank's. He keeps him in his radar as Frank breaks into the house. Frank is so silent, its hard to know where he is. 

Frank turns the gas off. The man is in the restroom. Matt fears when he can sense the man pull out a lighter from his pocket. The gas hasn spread thoroughly. Frank suppresses his urge to cough at he waits by the door of the restroom. He punches the man. 

The lighter falls out of his hands and onto the soft carpet. The man screams for both pain and fear. His voice echoes loud in the silence of the morning. Frank breaks his arm, he doesn’t waste his time. He handcuffs him to the towel hanger on the wall. The man’s blood pours from his nose onto the white tiles of the bathroom. He’s unconscious. Matt calls the police using Frank’s button Phone, disturbing Maxine in the process, the dog barks just once. 

Frank pulls his gun out and shoots the man straight in the head.-

“..." Matt takes a deep shakey breath. He couldn't expect Frank to let go of his targets twice for the sake of Matt. He lies in bed, as the trail of dead bodies haunt him. 

“Your father is a jerk" Matts says to Maxine, giving her head a little stroke. She whines in response and leans into Matt’s palm. 

Frank comes home and avoid Matt’s room. He takes his shirt off, and gets into his couch to sleep. Matt falls asleep also, somehow the death of the man seems insignificant in comparison to Jameela's. Matt prays for her, it’s the only comfort he can find. 

It is nearly lunchtime when Matt stirs out of bed. Maxine isn’t with him anymore but her smell lingers on the mattress. He drags his feet into the shower left of Frank’s bed. He washes himself after slowly cleaning his bandaged stomach. The wound is healing, and his leg is finally gaining some strength. The soap on the rack smells of nothing special, but there it has a floral scent that he often finds on the nape of Frank’s neck. Or in the crook of his fingers. Matt washes himself with it, sliding the slippery surface over his warm skin. Even when the wounds wont let him. 

Frank is reading a book in the other room. Matt knows what this is. He’s no fool to hide it from himself. Matt reaches well below and fingers his puckering hole. He hasn’t done this in a long time and has no need for it but his body betrays him, still clinging onto Frank's intimacy. Being blind changes human attraction. Matt wasn’t one to fall for physical attributes or someones sex, he was a fool. Who fell whenever his heart beckoned it. In midst of trying to be a good Catholic boy, he had forgotten that. 

When he gets deeper, the ghost of Franks embrace surrounds him, Matt aches for his touch. The shower feels hotter, he changes the temperature, fumbling with the tap nervously. The cold water is a cool change on his burning skin. He has fingers burried inside him with nothing but inconclusive hints from the man it’s all for. He eventually stops cleaning himself. Resting his head on the wall, waiting for his blush to leave before he does. All the while beating himself for not caring that he wants to sleep with a Frank.

“What are you reading?” Frank almost jumps. He expects Matt to be angry after last night, it isn’t an expectation which is met.

“A book.” Frank replies for he does not want to share with a rival that he is a man that reads Jane Austen in his pass time. So he settles for a vague response.

Matt is curious but leaves the topic. He sits in the one seater couch. The large couch swallows him in. Frank gives him an one over. Seeing that Matt found his clean clothes. Also seeing how alluring the man looks with wet hair. 

“Can you play the guitar?” Matt asks, pretending he hadn’t noticed Frank gawking at him. 

“How did you pick that one up?" Frank scoffs and folds his arms, transforming back to his guarded self again. 

“I took a look around” Matt says deadpan. Knowing there was a guiter in Frank's wardrobe. Matt has his eyes aimed at the coffee table between them.

“Yeah I know a little. Don’t ask me to play for you now”

“It is Christmas...” Matt trailes off with a smile.

“You forgot. I gave you something already?” Matt remembers the specs left forgotten back at his apartment. 

“Think you’re the one who owes me" Frank adds. 

“Yeah? And what do you want?” Matt says with a flirtatious smile, or he tries, and is thankful to hear Frank's heart pick up pace. 

“I'm sure you can think of something, Red.” Frank says in that gravel voice of his and Matt swallows. Frank’s eyes catch onto Matt’s throat, then he shakes his head. He tries to snap out of it. 

“There’s some coffee on the counter" he says, changing the topic. Matt sinks back into his couch with some disappointment. He faces aways from the table, then looks at Frank with his sightless eyes. Frank catches onto that gaze like a sacred gift. 

“I don’t want the coffee Frank" Matt is done being subtle. Frank clenches his jaw.

“What do you want then?” Frank is on a mission to destroy a Catholic's man’s modesty. 

Matt takes a deep breath. At this moment he could see the look on Frank’s face, a look of hunger and amusement on it. His body posture is reclined back comfortably and his breath is steady.

“You.” He says. That’s when Frank reacts. Heart rate quickening, and jaw relaxing and tensing indecisive. Frank clickd his tongue.

“Fuck. Red" Frank says before he shoots off his seat to lean over Matt’s. Matt sits up straight, eager and nervous. Frank crushes his lips onto Matt’s with a strong hand on Matt’s chin and another holding the back of the couch. Matt gasps, embarrassingly loud. Frank kisses him whole, and Matt kisses him back hungrily. Crushing their lips and forcing the air out of each other. Frank tastes like coffee and his lips are soft. His tongue is warm and teeth tease the flesh on Matt's lips a few times. Making Matt shudder in response. Warmth spreads throughout Matt, he feels like he's in Hell, burning alive with desire. 

Frank pushes him backwards and plants his knee in between Matt’s legs. Matt, who is extremely sensitive, so much so,that even the brush of Frank’s knee to his groin forces a moan out of him, It sure doesn't help that Matt is not wearing underwear. Matt puts his hands on Frank, pulling him in by his shoulders, then his short hair, he wants to touch him everywhere until he can map a clear picture of the man. Until he can mold Frank from marbel with his eyes shut. 

Frank opens his eyes, he kisses Matt but his mind goes somewhere else. He doesn’t have time for sex, doesn’t want it, but with Matt there is a mutual understanding of that fear and admiration. Frank feels a sense of pride when he hears Matt moan into his kiss.

Frank nudges that knee against Matt’s tightness, Matt has to break the kiss, he arches back and groans with his eyes closed. Matt looks breathtaking, flushed pink. Frank can not grasp his own feelings. Frank would do anything to see him naked on that couch, with his legs spread, his mouth on his cock or Matt breaking apart in front of him, opening sweetly and taking Frank's cock in. It’s a new desire, but Frank welcomes it.

Frank grabs Matt’s arm and pulls his up. Matt lands on his feet, against Frank’s chest. He blinks rapidly. Frank almost smiles at the innocent face Matt is making. He takes him into his room, and lays on the bed. Then, he kisses him so gently that Matt feels like it’s not for him. They undress in silence but Matt can hear the pounding of Frank's heart. It gives Matt some pleasure that he isn’t the only one so desperate for more. 

Matts skin is much paler than his. It not as bruised as Frank had expected. If Frank could have his way, no one would ever lay their hands on his Red ever again, but his Red is a suicidal righteous fool. Frank gives him a once over. His lips are red, his eyes are hooded, his cock is strained against his stomach. It is a pleasant picture for Frank. Though, he then wonders what this must be like for a Matt. 

“Ever done this before Red?” He asks in a rough tone when he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his socks. 

“No.” Matt pulls a pillow over his cock. 

“You don’t have a problem with it, Choirboy?” That last part serves to be a religious reminder. 

“I don’t have a problem with it. Anymore questions?” He sounds agitated. No one can blame a man with a straining cock impatiently waiting for his partner to fuck him for being agitated. 

Frank gets up. Grabs the supplies from the restroom and comes back in his underwear. He puts the supplies on the bed. Then slips his underwear off. He grabs Matt’s pillow and throws it on the ground. Matt listens carefully. When Franks naked body touches him again, its in the form of a kiss. Frank settles between his legs, incredibly comfortable despite Matt's hardness pressing into his stomach. He lets Matt run his hands over his face. It is a painfully intimate touch for the motive is purely for Matt to see. Matt has a cute concentration on his face, like the one from the Delhi Spice Shop. Matt prods Frank's nose for far to long that Frank playfully bites his hand. Matt smiles like a idiot at that.

He then memorizes every scar on the mans body with his fingers, Frank kisses his neck, his chest, down to his cock.

Matt moans painfully loud when his cock finally gets some attention. He lifts his hips, Frank nudges his hole with his free hand. Frank rims the edges with his finger, feeling it swell and shrink as Matt clenches. Matt feels like he’s on fire again. Frank comes back up and lays on Matts side. 

Matt feels defenceless when Franks fingers slide inside him with little lube and Frank’s tongue is all he can feel and taste in his mouth. The fingers intrude into body. Matt’s already at his limit. It overwhelms him. Frank doesn’t comment on his sensitivity. The look of intense concentration on his face, the way he arched his neck and bit little indents into his bottom lip had Frank wide-eyed, not wanting to miss a moment. 

Frank might be at his limit too He climbs on top, pushing Matt's legs apart, watching the surprise on Matt's face.

Then Frank positions himself. Gets a clear view of his tip nudging against Matt's hole, matt squirms, extremely impatient. Frank pushes the tip in first and then the rest, all at once, watching himself disappear inside Matt. Matt moans perfectly at the intrusion and friction inside of him. Frank fucks him deep and slow. Matt's body tenses and Frank reminds him to breathe. 

Matt feels that deep pleasure building inside him, he reaches in between to touch himself. Working his cock as Frank kisses him. Like a wave crashing down, he comes. He moans open mouthed and frank bites his lip. Franks groans are barely audible, but itsit's what sent Matt over the edge. He shivers endlessly in Franks embrace. Deeply inlove with the heaviness of Frank’s hard body as it crushes him onto the mattress. He’s surrounded by this man. This man who gives him all he needs. 

Frank rides through Matt’s orgasm, as his hole clenches around his shaft. He groans into Matts soft neck. Matt brushes Frank’s short hairs on his neck. Matt likes this part. The part where he’s no longer overwhelmed by his body’s need to release, so he can lay there and observe his lover. He feels as if Frank’s heart is beating inside his own, loud as a drum. He reaches down and holds onto Frank and monitors Franks erratic behaviour.

The thrusts get deeper and faster. Matt lifts his hips to meet them and feels whole where they become one. Matt is crazed by the sensation of Frank inside him, parting his walls and using his body for his pleasure. He can't stop the barely audible soft moans escaping his mouth. His half hard cock rocks as Frank thrusts get rougher. Frank comes into the condom, but Matt can feel every release of his cum inside him. He moans at the sensation of Frank’s pulsing cock. Frank muffles his groans into Matt's neck. 

Something inside Frank breaks. It may be for that Frank had denied himself the pleasure and intimacy and affectation for far too long. He hadn't been this close to someone since her. If he cries into Matt’s neck. Even if they both never speak of it again. When they break apart and Frank pulls out, they're both sweaty and tired in the light of the day. Frank stares at the ceiling and Matt into the red void. Both certain, that they will gladly do this again. With no one else but one another. Matt reaches down and grasps Frank's hand and Frank has no option but to grasp it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to write more. I love them but the story lost its touch during the intimate scenes. I want to write those scenes but I'm not very good at them.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow my main tumblr if you like. ](http://pleasegoawaypotato.tumblr.com)   
> 


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